


Like Shards Of Glass

by DewingedAngel



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Assassins & Royalty, M/M, one poor unsuspecting horse that hao glares at
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-02
Updated: 2020-12-02
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:33:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27721468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DewingedAngel/pseuds/DewingedAngel
Summary: Killing was one thing, killing was easy. But insurance fraud? And for no apparent reason? Minghao may have been one of the best assassins in the country, but he still had his morals intact, okay?
Relationships: Kim Mingyu/Xu Ming Hao | The8
Comments: 13
Kudos: 45
Collections: November 2020 Birthday Challenge





	Like Shards Of Glass

**Author's Note:**

> 'Ello! 
> 
> This is my first time venturing out into carat ficdom, and I'm honestly very sorry if the characters seem ooc?? I tried really hard to make sure they don't seem ooc lol but there is a first for everything and I hope you enjoy this small little itty bitty ficlet as much as I did writing it! 
> 
> [do you know how difficult it is to abide by a word limit? I had to gove up on some precious words cry with me TT_TT]
> 
> Do leave me comments and kudos if you liked it enough!

Minghao pulled his straw hat lower, stepping off the path and narrowly avoiding crashing into the cart that held dried medicinal plants while trying to not get trampled by the horse behind him. Honestly, he had half a mind to turn back and give the rider who had the brilliant idea to bring a horse into the busiest section of the marketplace at such a time when it was teeming with people a strong telling to, but he was in a hurry, and he was nothing if not particularly punctual. He settled to glare, instead

He took a turn into one of the side streets near the public notice wall and walked further, finally emerging onto the street that ran parallel to the marketplace but was far less crowded. He found the address that had been slipped into the scroll that morning easily, but standing in front of the nondescript, almost dilapidated tavern with its shabby walls and equally shabby tables and chairs, he couldn’t help but pause and wonder if it was all a prank. Surely, nobody who could afford to pay him would willingly walk into such a place.

He shrugged, deciding to walk in and giving it a chance, in any case.

The door creaked as he pushed it open, and even in the middle of the day, the inside of the tavern was dark. It smelled of sweat and staleness and soju and something distinctly acidic that he vehemently avoided identifying.

“Myungho ssi?” a voice spoke so close to his ear, he nearly pulled out the small dagger hidden in the sleeves of his jeogori. He clenched his fists instead and turned around to find a man with sharp eyes and a sharper smile looking at him with questioning eyes.

“That would be me,” he smoothed down his front and nodded.

The man’s smile widened but it didn’t lose any of its sharpness as he was lead away through a door he had failed to notice earlier, into a tunnel, and finally stopped in front of another door. “Your client is inside,”

“Thank you,” Minghao watched the man leave before turning to the door and twisting the doorknob and immediately felt his jaw drop open.

The room was spacious, fitted with beautiful furniture and brilliant chandeliers, it was a far cry from the tavern he had entered. His eyes flitted to one of the tables in the back, the only table that had a person sat at, his back to Minghao’s and essentially the door’s. The only other person was perched on a stool behind a large table that served as the cashier’s, he assumed. He nodded to the cashier and walked over to the table.

He slid into the seat opposite to the man’s and watched him momentarily. The clothes the man had donned were expensive silk, the colours vibrant and embroidery neat. The man was leaning back in his seat, his eyes on Minghao’s just the same. The man was tall, Minghao could tell, and his posture was impeccable; a man of status and standing in society, then. His eyes were sharp, a nice nose, an easy smile. And then Minghao noticed it, the small canine peeking out. A rush of thrill shot through his spine and he grinned.

Minghao’s hand slipped into a secret pocket on the inside of his jeogori and he pulled out the scroll from the morning, pushing it towards the man. “Seo Myungho,” he said slowly. “Pleasure to meet you, Your Highness.” He did a small curtesy, not bothering to stand up or take his eyes off the prince.

The prince’s eyes widened momentarily before he settled back down and nodded approvingly. He picked up the scroll and held it to the singular flame dancing from the tip of the candle at the center of the table, watching as it burned down to the ashes. “Please, call me Mingyu,” he said finally. “If we’re to do this,” he gestured between the two of them, “then you might as well be comfortable with me,”

Minghao raised an eyebrow but acquiesced. “Talk me through the task, then, Mingyu,”

“You will infiltrate the palace and on the night of the new moon, kill the prince in his sleep. You will slip right away, not speak a word of it, regardless of if you’re caught and tortured,”

Minghao leaned across the table and smiled, too toothy to be nice. “You want me to kill your brother so you can ascend the throne instead? How predictable,” he scoffed.

Mingyu leaned in as well, barely letting a hair’s breadth between their faces, and smirked his canine showing. “You’ve misunderstood, Myungho,” he dragged a blunt fingernail across Minghao’s face and tucked an errant hair behind his ear. “You will kill me,” 

Minghao jerked. “What?”

“It’s simple, really,” Mingyu sighed. “You kill me, my brother gets insurance money, the kingdom flourishes and all will be good,”

Minghao laughed incredulously. That was the most ridiculous thing he had ever heard. Who in the world commissioned an assassin to get themself killed? This strange creature in front of him, apparently. “I did not leave my homeland only to commit insurance fraud in your country,” he muttered.

Mingyu had the audacity to look at him imploringly. “I’ll pay you handsomely,”

“Why can’t you fake your death instead?”

“No use,” Mingyu shook his head. “Those investigators are terribly thorough,”

“I can’t believe this,”

“So, will you kill me?” Mingyu asked, hands clasped in front of him and tone hopeful.

“No!” Minghao had the urge to hit something, possibly the stupid prince in front of him.

“No?”

“No, this is beyond idiocy,”

“Myungho, desperate times call for desperate measures,”

“I’m going to kill you,” Minghao muttered under his breath, but Mingyu somehow heard it and his ears perked. “No, Gods, no. I will _not_ kill you!” He may have been an assassin, but he still had some morals. This was so, so stupid. What in the world had he gotten himself into?

**Author's Note:**

> I did try to edit, but any and all mistakes remaining are my own, sorry!  
> If you catch something blatantly wrong, do let me know!
> 
> Thanks for the read!


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